


Taking Criticism

by twerdgirl



Series: Write Every Day in November [11]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 05:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5193551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twerdgirl/pseuds/twerdgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hey guys so welcome to Write Every Day in November. My substitution to Write a Novel in a Month. I'll be endeavoring to write everyday this month.</p>
<p>After someone at school makes Mikey feel bad about his artwork Donnie tries to cheer him up and help him grow from the harsh words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Criticism

**Author's Note:**

> Day 11 of Write Every Day in November. Soooo this turned out different. I planned on writing a fluffy little fic where Donnie tried to cheer up Mikey. Instead I wrote something with a lot of stuff on how I feel one should take criticism. Have no idea how this happened, but I still like it. So hope you guys like it too and maybe I’ll have actually said something that strikes a chord in you and not come off like a street preacher.

Donnie walked into the room he shared with Mikey and stopped dead in his tracks. The room was a disaster, well more of a disaster than normal. Paper was crumpled up and strewed on the ground like land mines. Pencils littered Mikey’s desk and bed. Comic books that had once been neat and stacked were fanned out everywhere.

No normally Donnie would sigh and wonder what idea did Mikey get that made him decided to trash their room, but that’s what has Donnie at a dead stop. Mikey isn’t drawing or reading while complete oblivious to the mess, he’s brooding on the bed frowning at his sketch pad like it personally offended him.

Mikey doesn’t sulk… at least not really. He pouts and whines, but he’s always vocal about his feelings. Everyone knows when he’s had a bad day. Everyone knows when he’s upset about something. So seeing Mikey quietly brooding was a very bad sign.   
  
“Hey Mikey,” Donnie said as he walked over to the bed. “What’s going on,” he can’t help, but ask with a worrying tone.

Mikey looks at his with big sad eyes that mixed with the angry sulk of his mouth gives him a look that Donnie knows he never wants to see again. His forever happy bundle of sunshine looks miserable and Donnie wonders if he needs reinforcements. Leo or Splinter would be the best, but even Raph would do in a pinch.

Mikey looks at what he’s drawing and sighs. “The one thing I thought I was good at is something I’m still awful at.”

Donnie’s minds spins as he wondered what has gotten Mikey into this slump. Mikey had never had confident issues. School was hard for him, but he always kept doing his best. He wasn’t as great as ninjutsu as Raph or Leo, but he loved doing it anyway. The fact that Mikey was doubting ability that he’d been praised for more than anything else was a red flag that something was really wrong.

Donnie frowned. “What makes you say that,” he asked as he moved over to carefully sit next to Mikey.   
  
“I’ve been trying to finish this comic page, but…. I keep doing it wrong.”  
  
Donnie thought of how Mikey was always so proud of his art. How he had no issue sharing when he made comics or pictures. From day one Mikey had always been at his happiest with paper and crayons. It soon became clear that Mikey was good. He was the kind of good that people envied and only got better as he learned real techniques and how to apply them. Mikey was a true artist and it had been a staple of his life for as long as Donnie could remember.

“Why do you say that,” Donnie asked?

“I….. I mean… the color…. well the poses….I mean,” Mikey stuttered and looked at the page again.

“Who do I have to kill,” Donnie asked? Because it was now clear to him what had really happened. Mikey had encountered someone who had insulted his work and left Mikey with doubt. Mikey was talented and he’d only gotten better over the years, but he’d been criticized before and dealt with it fine. Mikey had long ago come to know that pointing out areas of improvement was only to help him get better. However, for the most part any criticism also came with praise that Mikey thrived off of. Someone had torn Mikey down without any positivity and it was sending his brother into a tail spin.

Mikey looked up and cringed before looking back down at his work. “I…. I don’t know his name. He told me I was doing everything wrong and that he couldn’t believe I was Mr. Eastman’s favorite.”  
  
Donnie felt anger built up in him. This person obviously wasn’t trying to be helpful he was just mad that the art teacher had a soft spot for Mikey. One that Donnie knew was well earned and deserved. In art Mikey was like a sponge and Donnie knew that teachers loved kids like that. Not to mention that Mr. Eastman was a mentor to Mikey not just in art, but in general. Mikey might not be a model student, but his passion and enthusiasm was contagious. Mr. Eastman was a great man and he was an advocate for Mikey at the school. When it was suggested that Mikey be held back a year despite Mikey’s protest and grades that while not amazing didn’t really need to call for such a drastic measure, Mr. Eastman had suggested after school tutoring. It had worked and while Mikey would never be valediction his grades were much better just from the little extra help every week.

“Do you still have what you were working on” Donnie asked.

Mikey looked around the room before getting up and headed to a corner of the room where a crumpled up ball sat. He grabbed it and smoothed it out. Before coming over to Donnie and showing it to him. Donnie looked at it and thought if was good, but he knew Mikey didn’t really need to be told that. “Why don’t you take this to Mr. Eastman tomorrow and show him it. I’m sure he can give you some pointers if that’s what you want.

Mikey looked at Donnie and back at the paper. “Why did I let him get to me” Mikey asked softly?

“Because we all doubt are work at times and being told how it’s all wrong hurts. It sucks when people just tear you apart without anything left for you to hold onto. It sucks when you work hard on something and don’t get even a little bit of praise. Its part of the world and it sucks, but you can’t let that keep you down Mikey. Some people will have nothing, but bad things to say about what you do and it’s the worst feeling in the world. You just got to remember that one person doesn’t mean everyone and as much as it stings sometimes they might be right about something even if not about everything. I can’t tell you how frustrating it is to work hard on a theory only to have no one listen to it or even worse only have bad things to say about it. You just got to keep working and listen to what people have to say and hope they actually want to help. If you find a person only has bad things to say and it doesn’t gel with what other people say you got to sort through their analysis. It’s painful and hard, but sometimes you find that maybe a thing they said was right. However, they might also be completely wrong and are just trying to bring you down. It’s tough and messy and someday you only want to focus on the good so you do that and face those criticisms another day. You are a good artist Mikey. You really are and you can’t let one person shut you down. If anything you get better so you can show them that their wrong.”

 Mikey looked at Donnie and nodded slowly as he absorbed everything his brother had said. “Okay, thanks Donnie.”

Donnie smiled. “Good. Now I have one more thing to say.”  
  
Mikey looked at Donnie with wide eyes and Donnie smiled. “There is no way that I am helping you clean this mess up.”

Mikey blinked and looked around before falling onto his bed with a groan.   
  
Donnie laughed and grabbed his laptop so Mikey could clean their room in peace.


End file.
